Thorns Amongst the Roses
by Grindark
Summary: In a world of fear and darkness, an Oshawott searches for his missing brother; slowly unraveling untold secrets along the way.
1. Salvation

**Chapter I  
**

* * *

**Salvation  
**

* * *

The rain fell with a brutality that befit sledgehammers; slamming down on the heads and backs of the two lone figures that sluggishly marched across the open plains. The weather hadn't changed since the two of them had set out on their journey. It seemed as if Arceus himself was conspiring against them.

"We can't keep this up forever, bro." The small Oshawott hurried to catch up to his brother, arms wrapped around himself in a futile attempt at keeping warm. "They'll find us eventually."

"Andrew," -his brother turned to look back at him- "we can. We have to keep going. The rain will wash away our footprints, so there'll be no chance of them trailing us through them. We'll be safe."

"**When **will we be safe, Hobart?" Andrew wailed. "There's nothing around us for miles! We might end up dead, or worse." He clutched involuntarily at the shell that clung to his chest, sniffling just loud enough to be heard during the minimal pauses in the torrential downpour.

"As soon as I find shelter," Hobart replied grimly. He peered through the rain with a determination fitting his tone, one paw raised to shield his eyes against the falling droplets. "… Over there." He pointed to the right.

Andrew struggled to follow after the taller Oshawott, his limbs heavy from the constant marching and lack of food. "I'm hungry, too."

"I'll scavenge something up, don't worry."

Soon, the distant bushes that his brother had pointed out were within a short distance of them. Then, eventually, they stood before them, fur soaked.

Two dried up bushes entwined together to form a small shelter of sorts, large enough to shade at least three small Pokémon; enough space for the two brothers to sit in comfortably. Hobart gestured for Andrew to go in first and crawled in shortly afterwards, ignoring the scratches of the twigs against his coat as he made his way through.

"At least… this will hide us," Andrew said, sliding to the floor in exhaustion. "My feet are killing me."

Hobart sat down close by him, pulling up his legs and wrapping his arms about them. "Let's rest a bit before we even think about going back out there for food."

Andrew nodded, looking down at the dusty earth before him. "… I think I'll try to get some sleep."

"I'll keep on guard," Hobart replied, his dark gaze turned towards the bush's entranceway. As his sibling lay down, he narrowed his eyes in thought. _How far do we have to go before they'll stop hunting us? _It was torture, the way that they had to keep going on and on. There was little in ways of rest and nourishment, and it worried him. Soon, Andrew might succumb to both exhaustion and hunger; he'd never been the stronger of the two.

Such thoughts brought forth a cold feeling that settled in Hobart's heart. He wrapped his tail around his feet, eyes still focused intently on the gap between the twigs and the browning greenery. _I won't let anything happen to him, _he promised silently. _I'll be there for him through everything that we might have to face._

Hours passed by and eventually, Andrew awoke. He rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up, glancing about with an almost dazed expression before letting his gaze fall on Hobart. "Good… morning, I guess," he mumbled, blinking sleepily.

Hobart smiled at him and nodded. "Good, whatever time it is."

His younger brother laughed a little at that, then clambered to his feet and stretched. "My muscles ache."

"Mm, let's try to find something to eat." Hobart stood up and headed over to the entranceway, Andrew following behind him shortly afterwards.

The rain had let off, if only slightly. It still pattered against their backs and the earth beneath their feet, however, it'd become marginally easier to see. The details of the objects ahead something more than just random blobs or blocks of shadows.

Andrew seemed a bit happier at the rain's slowdown, his pace quicker than a couple of hours before. "I'll move on up ahead and see if I can find anything," he said, jogging past Hobart, his gaze already roving over the shrubs and rocks that littered the plains.

"Just… don't wander off too far," Hobart replied. "Make sure you stay within my line of sight."

"'Kay!"

As the smaller figure excitedly searched the areas about him, Hobart moved off to start examining a nearby bush; smaller than the one that they had taken refuge in, it seemed just as in need of this downpour as its neighbour. He looked it over carefully, crouching down to look for any signs of berries that might have flowered upon its small branches.

"Brother, brother! I found something!"

Looking up from his task, Hobart straightened and turned around. "What is it?" he asked.

"I think it's some kind of berry, but – come see! I can't really identify it, myself."

Glancing one more time at the bush he was beside, Hobart headed in the direction he'd heard Andrew's voice coming from, ears pulled back in a futile effort to keep them clear of the rain.

He found his brother cupping hold of something in his paws, close to a piece of shrubbery.

"Here it is, Hobart." Andrew walked over to him, holding out the object.

Hobart studied it, and smiled. "That's a pecha berry. They're safe for eating."

"Awesome." Andrew grinned. "Do you want it?"

"No, keep it. It's yours."

"Uhm, alright. If you say so…"

"I'll keep searching."

"Okay, I'll keep searching too."

Hobart turned away, heading back to the bush he'd been previously studying. Hopefully, they'd end up with a small pile of food by the middle of the day. Such a thought was enough to have him quickening his pace, if only a little. The quicker that they got this berry search over and done with, the quicker that they'd be able to set off again.

As he stopped before the bush once more, he heard the quiet humming of his brother. Content that he was fine without him, he circled the greenery, eyes sharply looking out for anything that could be potential food.

A scream echoed across the plains towards him.

Frozen, he felt his ears twitch backwards automatically, trying to pinpoint the source of the frightening sound.

"Brother!" Andrew shrieked.

The bout of paralysis that'd taken Hobart over in those few moments, left. Quick as a flash, he twirled. "Andrew!" he yelled, breaking into a run.

He shoved aside branches as he followed the panicked squeaks of his brother, his eyes wide with worry. He stopped, gasping for breath, his mouth falling open in shock and horror at what he saw before him.

A pallid yellow coat, narrowed blood red eyes. Drizzle rained down upon the large form, steam rising up to spiral in the air. A collection of eight tails lashed in anger and the Ninetales lowered his head and bared his teeth.

Andrew sat shaking a few inches from the terror, and the instant that Hobart barked out his name he scrambled backwards and twisted to face his brother, his gaze filled with fear. "H-he found us," he whispered.

Dread settled in Hobart's gut and, for a moment, he forgot how to move, his sight focusing on the Ninetales. _How…? How did he track us down?_ He gritted his teeth and shook his head. _No, he's not getting anywhere near my brother! I won't let him! _He quenched the fear with a clench of his fists and stepped in front of Andrew protectively.

The Ninetales tilted his head. "You're not as hard to find as you'd think." His expression contorted into one of resentment. "Now I'll finally be able to end you."

"No!" Hobart yelled. "You might be older and more experienced than us, but that doesn't mean you'll be able to beat us. Right, Andrew?"

Andrew cowered behind his brother, clutching at his side in an attempt to reassure himself. It wasn't helping. "Hobart… He's-"

"Brother, there's two of us and one of him. Besides, we have an advantage that he doesn't."

"Uh, w-what's that?"

"Water."

The Ninetales chuckled lowly. "Oh, don't be so sure. After all, I stand before you as this rain continues to patter… I have grown accustomed to the pain it brings."

Hobart scowled at the fox silently, and then under his breath, he muttered, "When I give the signal, run."

Andrew's left ear twitched and he looked up at his brother. "What…?"

"Don't question it, just go."

"But, what about-"

Hobart gave him no time to argue, drawing in a quick breath, he launched a torrent of water at the Fire-type. There was a hiss as it hit its mark. Andrew gasped, hesitating for a moment, before crouching down on all fours and dashing away, heading across the dead lands as fast as his legs could carry him.

The Ninetales shook his head from side to side, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You'll pay for that, you brat," he growled.

"No, I won't," Hobart replied, falling back a couple of steps.

He felt teeth snap at his heels as he turned away and broke into a run, his breath leaving him in short gasps. That attack had taken a lot out of him. But, he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop! If he was to stop now – the Ninetales would get him.

_At least I gave my brother a little more t__ime to escape, _he thought, as his paws drummed a staccato upon the damp ground.

He could hear the Ninetales give chase; his senses screaming at him to run faster. With a determined look plastered upon his face, he lunged forwards; flashing into an invisible stream of water; leaving his attacker far behind.

* * *

**Marshtomp Fens**

"Aaandrew!" The call echoed out into the gathering gloom emptily. "Andrew, can you hear me?"

Hobart had been desperately calling for hours now, his flight from the Ninetales leaving him stranded and alone amidst thicker greenery and even thicker mud. It soaked his hind paws and dotted his coat, but he didn't care to wash it off – he had more important matters to take care of. Such as finding his brother.

The worry for the younger Oshawott was eating him up from the inside, leaving him breathless and panicky. He tried to calm down, slow his breathing, but it didn't help much.

_I was supposed to be keeping an eye on Andrew. What kind of brother am I to just lose him like this?_

He should have thought of a plan. But, in the terrifying heat of the moment he'd thought of nothing more than getting Andrew to safety; gunning down the Ninetales with an exhale of water was the only thing he could think of at the time. Yes, it'd worked. Yes, it had allowed Andrew to escape and get somewhere far away from the Ninetales, but, was he still safe? Was he hurt somewhere, hungry and cold? He couldn't stand thinking of his brother in any terrible circumstance such as those.

"I'll find him," he muttered to himself. "I will." _He'll be somewhere around here, I just need to keep looking for him and I'll find him soon enough._

_What if __**that **__had happened to him? _The words came unbidden to his mind and he had to shake his head viciously to clear them. No, he was fine. He'd find him, uninjured and relieved to see him. He took a deep breath and called out again.

Another hour passed by and darkness was settling in. Hobart shivered, the cold seeping into his skin; his stomach grumbling with hunger. It was useless to keep up the search if he was too cold and hungry to keep focus. He needed to find a place to sleep, and, maybe even find something to eat. But, he wanted to keep searching.

Though, common sense kicked in, telling him that it was way too dark to see much of anything. Sleep was more important right now. So, with a sinking heart, he set off in search of shelter.

He was lucky. Ten minutes into his search, he stumbled across a crevice streaking down the side of a large boulder. As he carefully stepped inside, he briefly wondered what kind of Pokémon could've possibly caused such damage, or whether it was merely something that the recent terrible weather had created. "I wouldn't really want to stumble across a Pokémon that could do something like this," he muttered. "They'd have to be larger than that Ninetales, and that's saying something." The only Pokémon he'd ever known that could rival the fox's size was his dad. But, he wasn't here.

Hobart sighed, plodding over to the darker portion of the hollowed insides in the rock. He flopped to the floor and curled up, trying to fend the cold off by cuddling up to his tail. "Sometimes I wonder if we should've taken a Fire-type along with us," he mumbled. He shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The sound of crackling and popping awoke him.

With a gasp, he shot up, any drowsiness he might've felt leaving him in a second.

A small cheery fire sat within the middle of the grotto. Small branches and dead leaves encircled it, carefully positioned close enough to the Oshawott that he could comfortably feel the warmth and smell the scent drifting off of it. Confused, he edged around the fire cautiously, his eyes darting to and from it to the surrounding walls. Where had it come from? And, more importantly, who did it belong to? He couldn't possibly have done that in his sleep. He wasn't capable of breathing fire.

"Oh, you're awake?" a merry voice echoed throughout the grotto. "How're you feeling?"

"Uh…" Hobart glanced to the entrance of the crevice, his brow furrowed.

A Sentret came traipsing in humming a happy tune. In his paws he held a large leaf, filled with an assortment of colourful objects that Hobart couldn't make out, until their aroma blasted his nose – berries! He eyed them hungrily for a moment, but his gaze went swiftly back to the stranger, his expression wary.

"Who are you?" he asked, a suspicious hint to his tone.

The Sentret chuckled. "Who am I? Well, I'm a merchant!" He lifted a bracelet adorned paw up with the other resting upon his stomach, and took a short bow. "You're lucky I managed to sniff out your scent trail when I did, otherwise who knows what could've happened! There's quite a couple of angry Pokémon out there; ones I wouldn't want to meet on a stormy night, that's for sure."

Hobart's brow creased once more. He didn't know what to make of this guy. His instincts weren't telling him that he was a danger (and he didn't really look much like one), but to be out here, so far from civilization? "If you're a merchant," he began slowly, "how did you come to be out here?"

"Oh, well, me and Memoo were out looking for Marsh Gems. They're kinda rare, but there were rumors spread around that they could be found in the Marshtomp Fens, so we decided to check it out." He smiled in a kindly way at Hobart. "You know, you don't need to be so scared of me, I don't bite. Well, not unless somemon decided to attack me first!" He chuckled quietly at his joke and hopped closer to the fire, placing the giant leaf down carefully beside it.

"You can swipe some of this food if you're hungry, you know," he said, glancing back up. "I don't mind."

Hobart stayed where he was for a while longer, his mind working over the possible dangers and suspicions, before his hunger got the better of him and he ventured closer; cautiously taking a couple of the berries for himself. "… Thanks," he replied, flashing the Sentret a nervous smile.

The merchant grinned in return. "No problem. I'm called Sen, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Hobart," he responded, as he sat down. "It's nice to meet you too… But, who's this Memoo you mentioned earlier?"

"A friend of mine. She's the one who set up this fire for you. Kinda felt sorry for you, you know? She's staying out of the way for now; doesn't want to make you feel too nervy around too many Pokémon at once." Sen crouched to take one of the berries for himself and sat down, curling his tail about his feet. "I tell you, it's always nice to relax by the fire after a big hunt like this. Couldn't beat it."

Hobart studied one of the berries he was holding; turning it around in his grasp. A cheri berry. Deeming it safe to eat, he bit into it. A spicy taste sprung across his tongue and he was quick to finish off the rest of the red fruit, moving onto a familiar blue berry, which he swiftly devoured.

"Hungry, huh?" Sen mused aloud. "Well, you can help yourself. There's plenty here, anyways. Plus, I can just go get some more from Memoo if we run out; got our backpack out there where she can protect it. Don't want some feral Pokémon getting their mittens on it. Especially not after such a successful trip." Sen laughed.

"… How did you end up out here alone, anyways?" Sen asked, turning to look at Hobart inquisitively.

He took his time to finish off his oran berry, chewing on it slowly as he pondered over what would be safe to give away to this stranger. "… I was travelling with my brother," he began carefully, swallowing the last of the fruit. "We got separated during the storm; I was trying to find him."

The Sentret nodded sagely. "There's been an awful lot of cases like that lately. Storms have come rolling in unexpectedly, catching a lot of Pokémon unawares. It's short of a disaster waiting to happen, I tell you."

The fire crackled as they spoke, its light illuminating the insides of the grotto warmly. The pair sat in silence for a while, just staring at the flames, that was, until a growl rumbled outside, followed by a shout.

Sen frowned and held up a paw as Hobart opened his mouth to speak. "I'll deal with it," he muttered to him quietly, and stood up, edging his way over to the entrance.

A Numel shoved her way through the crevice, smoke rising from her nostrils with each angered snort. "Stupid vermin," she grumbled, twirling around to tug a large backpack in after her. "Try to steal **my **stuff? Well, they'll think better of it the next time they try to mess with me!" She flicked the thick clump of fur away from her eyes, flashing the smallest of smiles at Sen before gripping the bag inbetween her teeth and dragging it the rest of the way into the grotto. "Best to keep our supplies in here, I reckon. Don't want those little rats trying to get their paws on it again," she mumbled, her words muffled by the material.

As she dropped it to the floor, her gaze turned on Hobart and the smile reached her eyes. "Nice to meet you, little one. I'm Memoo. Sorry about the intrusion, but, can't really stay out there any longer; we have scurriers about."

"He already knows who you are," Sen replied, stepping forward to push the bag a little closer to the fire.

"That may be so, but I doubt you've told him of what species I am, knowing you. You always leave out the crucial pieces of information."

"Mm, well, I probably _did _miss it out. Not that it matters…"

"Er, nice to meet you," Hobart interjected, nodding to the Fire-type.

"See? With manners too." Memoo shot a haughty glance over at the Sentret, who stuck out his tongue lightheartedly in response.

"Rather spacious in here, isn't it?" Memoo continued, raising her eyes to the ceiling, and then to the far end of the grotto. "A nice enough spot to hide from the dreadful weather."

Sen gestured for her to step closer, his gaze switching from Hobart to her. As she lurched toward him, he leaned in and stood on his tiptoes to whisper something into her ear, before leading her further back towards the entrances.

Hobart watched with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Darker thoughts came unbidden to his mind. What if they were planning to attack him? He stiffened, his paws clenching around the few berries he held. However, his thoughts were interrupted as Sen – his paws behind his back – and Memoo walked over to stand before him.

"We've come to an agreement," Sen said. "If you'd like, we can offer our assistance in helping you find your brother." He glanced at Memoo, who smiled and nodded. "If you're willing to accompany us, that is," she added.

Their kindly words took him by surprise, and internally, he felt guilty over his inner thoughts. To think such bad things about others was not something his father would've been proud of, even during these rough times. He shook his head, then, realizing what it must look like to them, he quickly covered it up with a smile and a nod of his own. "That would be… really helpful, thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Good. Now, is anyone in the mood for some pecha berry juice?" Sen asked loudly, as he raced over to the backpack and unbuttoned the top, flipping open the cover moments later. He withdrew a canteen and a set of cups out from within.

Memoo pulled a face. "None for me, thank you. It's too sweet for my tastes."

"Want some?" Sen offered to Hobart, as he poured the juice into one of the two cups.

"That'd be nice, thanks."

As soon as he'd finished pouring the drink, Sen carefully made his way over to the Oshawott and passed him a cup, and then sat down, taking a drink from his own. Hobart tentatively sipped at the juice; it was better than he expected, with a blast of syrupiness and an aftertaste that reminded him strongly of apples. "This is good," he commented. "Who made it?"

Sen stared down at his drink in thought. "A Pokémon by the name of Jermani. He's pretty famous for his concoctions. Often travels around with a circus, kinda' lucky that we bumped into him on our way up here, I think." He chuckled quietly to himself.

"Anyway, we'll start the search as soon as me and Memoo have rested up. In the meantime why don't we tell stories to pass the time?"

The hours flew by quickly, with Sen recapping a comedic tale of the occasion where he once unsuspectingly stole from an Ursaring and Memoo chiming in to add her own rendition of the story, as time went on. Hobart, in turn, told them an old fairytale that his father used to recite, where Dragonites fought with the Lapras of the sea, and Luxray prides sided with Mareep to fend off the great flock of birds that threatened to take their land.

By the end, a comfortable silence reigned down on the trio, the flames of their campfire burning low.

"Well," Sen said, getting up and stretching, "time to begin our quest then, eh?"

"Yeah," Hobart replied, pushing himself to his feet. _I hope we can find him, _he thought with a worried frown. _… No, we will, I'm sure of it. Hold on Andrew, I'm on my way._


	2. Shadows

**Chapter II  
**

* * *

**Shadows  
**

* * *

The sun shone high up in the sky as the small group of Pokémon made their way out of the grotto. With the backpack attached firmly to Memoo's back, thanks to the help of Sen and the last minute assistance of Hobart, they were fully prepared in beginning their search.

"Right," Sen said, clapping his paws together. "I think our best bet would be to start our search near the location that you first started at." He looked to Hobart, who nodded. "Well then, if you don't mind, lead the way!"

The Oshawott jogged on a little way ahead of the odd pair, his ears tilting forwards and eyes to the ground. The past few hours besides his meeting with the merchants had passed by in a blur to him. _Hope__fully I'll recall where I was last night, _he thought, studying the scenery for anything that looked familiar. _I have to really focus. The faster I remember where I've been, the quicker my hopes of finding my brother will be. _A stone of anguish settled in his stomach and he struggled to fight past it, his gaze fixated on the muddy floor before him. _I won't give in, _he told himself grimly.

Hobart continued to study his surroundings as they trudged through the mud, his dark grey eyes slowly roving the landscape for any signs that would help to trigger his memory. Soon, his gaze alighted on a jagged rock, sticking outwards from the mud and pointed unevenly to the sky. An image of the object flashed by his mind's eye and he took a deeper breath in, stopping a moment to examine it further.

So caught up in the trek was Sen that he didn't even notice that they had stopped. It was only when Memoo nudged him that he paused; backpedalling a little to avoid bumping into Hobart. "Whoa, what's up?" he asked, peeking over the Water-type's side to stare up at him.

"I… think I know that rock," Hobart said aloud. "It looks familiar."

"Well, let's head over to it, then," Sen replied. "No use a-dawdling, right?" He burst into a short lapse of laughter.

"Yeah," Hobart said simply, and quickly headed over to it at a jog. Sen and Memoo hurried to catch up.

As they came to a stop once more, Hobart began to circle the rock and then glanced away to look at the damp earth around it. "I was right, I do know this rock. I remember passing it in the search." He circled around it to the opposite side, examining the ground for signs of footprints. "There's evidence of me being here, too."

"Mud's quick to get rid of the evidence," Sen pointed out. "In the time that you would have spent sleeping, other Pokémon could have passed this way."

"They may have stepped over your tracks in that time," Memoo added.

"Then, we'll just have to be careful," Hobart said. "We should keep an eye out for footprints that look similar to mine." Raising his tail for balance, he lifted one foot to show them. "Maybe we'll be able to find my brother this way, as well."

"A possibility," Sen agreed.

"We'll keep a sharp eye out," Memoo said, smiling gently.

After that, Hobart kept his head low and eyes on the ground, trailing after the marks that meandered about the rock. They started to snake away from the object after a time, and he followed it, moving at a steady pace.

Meanwhile, Sen and Memoo were keeping to their word. With the Numel and the Sentret looking from side to side as they carried on forwards. There were no other tracks that looked similar to Hobart's, unless, they were to count the fresh prints he made.

"Maybe we'll come across someone who's seen him," Sen abruptly exclaimed.

Hobart's ears tilted back to catch the words clearly and he nodded. "Yeah, although, we've not seen anyone yet."

"Yeah, but we might."

"Let's just wait and see," Memoo said. "We should continue to follow the tracks and, if we do happen to stumble across someone, we could ask them if they've seen your brother."

They fell silent after that, as Hobart quickened the pace until he was almost at a trot. The pair shifted to catch up to him, glancing at each other with a smile in their gaze.

"You really care for your brother, huh?" Sen asked.

"Yeah, he's all I have left of my family." _Lost and separated from them but, I won't tell them that._

"Oh, that must be tough." Sen's ears fell back, and Memoo's expression softened into one of sympathy. "I used to have family myself but, well, I had to run away." He shrugged. "Some fights broke out over territory and I thought it'd be best to skedaddle."

"… Why do you ask, anyway?" Hobart questioned, glancing over his shoulder at the Sentret.

"Oh… well, it's just… There's been a couple of occasions I've stumbled across siblings and they just fight a lot, it doesn't really seem like they care that much for each other by the way they were snapping."

"Sen, it's simple rivalry between brothers and sisters," Memoo responded, shooting her friend a surprised look. "It's how they all act."

Sen shook his head. "Nah, nah, it wasn't like that kinda' fight, it was… brutal. They were really shoving angry retorts into each other's faces, it was kinda' difficult to listen to, actually."

"When was this?" Memoo asked, tilting one ear back.

"A couple of weeks ago, when you were off on vacation. It's alright, just been happening a lot lately."

"Happening a lot?" Hobart glanced back, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Sen nodded. "Yeah, a lot of families have been having all kinds of feuds with each other, mostly within my level of hearing. I mean, being what I am, it's kinda' hard **not **to hear it, you know what I mean?" His ears quivered, as if to emphasize his point.

Hobart shook his head, a small smile on his face as he turned back to the task of examining the muddy ground. "I can see where I've been circling around here but, that's it. Maybe if we scout ahead a little more…"

"How long were you searching for your brother last night?" Memoo asked, trotting past Sen to come to a standstill beside Hobart.

"A couple of hours, I think. It was around afternoon when we got separated, and it was much darker by the time I decided to take a short break."

"You might've gone off in different directions," Sen remarked. "It's not hard to get thrown off course in a storm. Had it happen a couple of times, myself."

"Yeah, that's true," Hobart said, glancing about the landscape for any traces of footprints beside his own. He shifted away from the pair to take a closer look at the nearest trail of prints, his gaze darting about over them, before he straightened and exhaled a gentle sigh.

_This is looking more and more hopeless… But, I won't give up. He couldn't have gotten too far… I hope that Ninetales hasn't caught up with him. _He bit his lower lip, his eyes flickering about the marshlands. Dark brown and scatters of green spread out before him but, there was no sign of movement, no figures.

Sen's sudden exclamation of surprise caught him unawares and he spun around, his back fur on end. "What is it?" he asked quickly.

"I see movement over there!" Sen pointed, raising up on to his tail in his brief excitement. "Maybe it's him!"

"Only one way to find out!" Hobart replied grimly, dropping onto all fours to dash over to the figure.

The merchants followed, with Memoo at the rear and Sen leaping and hopping after the Oshawott.

As Hobart came to a stop panting and straightened close to the shocked stranger, his ears fell back momentarily. A Cubone stood before him. Definitely not Andrew. "Um, sorry for the intrusion, sir," he began, dipping his head to the Pokémon. "But, have you seen an Oshawott, by chance? He's a little smaller than me with a small mess of backwards facing fur on the top of his head."

The Cubone tilted his head to the floor in thought, as Sen and Memoo pulled to a stop close by. For a short while he was silent, and then he raised his head again. "Yes, I believe I have. It was at a distance but, it's hard to miss white and blue amongst all of this brown."

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Hobart said with a relieved smile. "Do you know in which direction he went?"

"Hmm, he was headed in the general direction of Oak Town. It's not too far from here, you just go straight a few miles and then turn eastward. It should take you no less than ten to fifteen minutes to get there after that."

"Thank you so much," Hobart told him gratefully.

"Should we head to the town, then?" Sen asked, hopping to stand by Hobart's side.

"Yeah, let's get there as quickly as we can. I don't want to miss him."

"It's a relief to know that we're getting somewhere now," Memoo said. "It must be incredibly worrisome to think of your brother alone out there."

"Well, he won't be alone for long," Hobart replied, looking determinedly forwards as he headed past the Cubone. The merchants nodded to the Ground-type as they walked on by, hurrying until they were at either side of Hobart.

The trip was uneventful for the most part, with Memoo and Sen conversing every so often with each other and the Oshawott in turn. They ran across a wild Rattata during the excursion but, Memoo was able to chase it off with a quick spray of Embers as it lunged at them.

Soon, a multitude of silhouettes began to appear on the horizon.

"That must be Oak Town," Sen piped up. "Shouldn't be too far a walk now."

They quickened the pace, arriving within good time at the gates of the town.

* * *

**Oak Town**

They were immediately greeted by two Staravias. "Welcome to Oak Town, fair travelers!" tweeted one, raising a wing to his forehead in salute. "We hope you enjoy your time here."

As they walked past them, Hobart looked back, then to Memoo. "What was that about?"

"They're sentries," she explained. "With so many feral Pokémon escaping from the confines of Mystery Dungeons these days it's crucial for towns such as this to set up a guardian system day and night. Without it there'd most certainly be havoc wrought amongst the townsmon."

"Makes sense," Hobart replied with a nod. However, he was quickly brought away from thoughts of the Staravia guards as his focus turned fully to the town. Colourful painted buildings lined the borders of twining cobblestone paths; small glass covered lights made up of gathered multi-hued electricity dotted their edges. A multitude of different kinds of Pokémon Hobart had never seen before bustled and marched along the many twisting tracks, the hum of voices both comforting and lively.

"Should we split up?" Sen asked, looking around, his ears twitching left and right with each turn of his head.

"… No, I'd prefer it if we didn't get separated," Hobart said. "We might be unable to find each other again."

"Yes, it's rather crowded," Memoo added. "Although… I do believe we've been here before…"

"Yup, you're right." Sen nodded. "I remember us coming here a while ago to sell some… oran berries, I think it was? There were a couple of other occasions but, I was by myself on errands then."

"It shouldn't be too difficult for us to find our way around here, then." Memoo glanced about, a thoughtful look on her face.

"That's true." Sen laughed. "You're in luck, Hobart! Looks like we can cut down our search immensely."

"Where should we start looking first?" Hobart asked, his gaze looking from the chattering groups of Pokémon to the merchants.

"Hmm, probably the inn. That's where most travelers head first," Sen replied.

"We'll look there then," Hobart agreed. "Would you like to lead the way?"

"Certainly," Sen said with a small nod of his head. He trotted forwards, with Memoo following behind him, flashing a smile at Hobart as she passed him by.

As they waded their way through the crowd, Hobart found he was glad that he hadn't come here alone. The flow of the throng would've made it incredibly difficult for a loner to navigate through, with the smaller civilians shoving past with muttered words of apology and the occasional larger Pokémon surging their way along the cobblestone paths.

Sen was the first to step beyond the entrance of their destination; pushing the door open with one paw, and keeping it ajar for Memoo and Hobart to walk in in turn, paitiently.

Hobart headed over to the counter, where a Nidorina stood with a small welcoming smile on her face. "Hello! Are you looking to rent a room?" she asked cheerily.

"Um, no, actually I've come here in search of someone; my brother. He's an Oshawott, like me. Has he booked himself in at all?"

The Nidorina frowned slightly and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid there hasn't been any Oshawott's that've asked for a room, here. I could go check, just to make sure, if you'd like?"

"That'd be good, thanks."

As she sauntered off through the back entrance, Hobart leaned back with a sigh. _I hope my brother's safe… Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place? _He stared down at the wooden floor, his mind replaying the memory of the fight. _I hope that Ninetales hasn't caught up to him. _Again, the worry rushed upwards in his throat and he struggled to push it back down. He wouldn't throw himself into a panic here. Andrew could be fast, when he wanted to be. Maybe he was looking for Hobart, as well?

"I'm sorry…" The Nidorina's voice cut through his thoughts, causing Hobart to jump. "The closest to an Oshawott we have in the registry is a Buizel. I wish I could help you further."

"No, it's fine. Thank you." Hobart turned away to head back out of the entranceway, Sen and Memoo walking after him with sympathetic looks on their faces.

"Well, there's always the chance that he's still in town," Sen told Hobart, as they opened the door and stepped back outside.

"I'm hoping," Hobart sighed.

As Sen opened his mouth to respond, a call came from up above. The trio looked up, spotting a winged silhouette against the blue sky. It dived, its wings slowly furling to its sides, before it levelled close beside them.

A young Skarmory grinned down at the three. "Boy, fancy meeting you here." His kindly gaze looked to Sen and Memoo. "Small world, eh?" He chuckled lowly.

"Haha, it certainly is, my friend!" Sen padded over to pat the large Pokémon's foot. "Good to see you."

"You too!"

"It's lovely to see you again, Moriss," Memoo said, smiling up at the Skarmory.

"Who's this?" Hobart asked, eyeing Moriss warily.

"He's one of the appointed messengers of Aia. They call themselves the Post Masters," Sen explained, smiling up at Moriss. "Do you have anything for us?"

"Yup, I certainly do!" Moriss exclaimed, dropping to the floor and furling his wings. It was around that time that Hobart noticed the large carrier bag that was slung securely across the Skarmory's back. He turned his head and flipped open the bag with an expert flick of his beak, then began to rummage his way through it; gently tipping through each envelope that was placed neatly within. "Ah ha! Here it is!" He pulled one in particular out with a careful grab of the front row of his teeth, to lay it close to the Sentret and Numel.

They crowded it, with Sen scooping it up and pulling the envelope open, withdrawing a letter from within. As his beady eyes flickered across the paper, Memoo moved closer to read it.

Hobart stayed on the sidelines, alternating from watching the Post Master to the pair of merchants, his paws clasped together across his chest.

"Oh," Sen uttered, lowering his arm with a sigh, and a chinkle of his bracelets.

"Oh, what?" Hobart asked, drawing closer to the two.

"We – well, we're needed in Apple Orchard. We have clients in need of extra apple seeds." Sen scratched at one ear with his free paw, glancing guiltily over at Hobart. The Oshawott's heart sank. "… We'll have to go, it's urgent. The weather's been terrible further down; caused the workers to lose an awful lot of trees." He sighed again but, turned to give Hobart an attempt at a reassuring smile. "We'll stay with you for a little longer though, this in itself is terrible, with you losing a sibling like this and having to search for him all by yourself."

A small portion of the weight that'd settled on Hobart's heart at his earlier words lifted. He shot them both a smile back. Memoo gave him a gentle one of her own, although her ears were pulled back.

"Oh, you're on the lookout for someone?" Moriss interjected, pulling them away from their momentary guilt and anxiety.

"My brother," Hobart told him.

Moriss nodded. "Well, if you'd like, I'll keep an eye from the air. If I see anything I'll let Sen and Memoo know; can't really stay and chat with those outside of the merchant leagues, you know how it is."

Hobart didn't but he nodded anyway. "Thank you."

"We'll send a minor messenger to you if Moriss arrives to us with word of him," Memoo said, walking slowly over to Hobart to nuzzle against him gently. He stiffened, not used to close contact from strangers but, she was quick to pull away offering him another smile.

"Shouldn't take too long to go running in your general direction," Sen added. "They can sniff out a scent trail for miles. Not ones for slacking off neither."

"Well, I'll be off then," Moriss said, unfurling his wings. "I'll keep a lookout for… an Oshawott, right?"

"Right." Hobart nodded.

"Well, seeya then. I wish you luck in your search, young fellow, and I hope to see you two again soon, my friends." He winked at Sen and Memoo and then, after a few powerful strokes of his wings, took to the air, spiraling away to the east.

Hobart frowned as a thought occurred to him abruptly, and he looked to Memoo.

"What is it?" she asked, catching his glance.

"There's something that has been bugging me in the back of my mind for a while now," Hobart began. "… Why don't you have a Charm?"

Memoo blinked a moment, and then quietly, she laughed. "I do but, it is not physical. My Charm was granted to me by a Psychic gypsy when I almost lost my old one in a fight. It's been with me for a long time now."

"Oh, I've never heard of those before."

"They're pretty rare, only Dark-types and Psychics can normally be able to grant them. However, I've seen a Combusken be able to grant one through immense concentration, although I'm unsure if it was to do with his Fighting capabilities…"

"Your Charm is your scalchop, right?" Sen interjected, looking to Hobart.

He nodded. "Yeah, my brother has the same. … It's a custom for Oshawotts to be granted a scalchop Charm upon hatching."

"I thought so," Sen said, leaning back and folding his arms. "It's pretty interesting getting to know all about the different customs, you know? If it weren't for the fact that being a merchant is a big job, I'd probably travel around writing a journal dedicated to the customs of the many different species." He threw back his head and laughed.

"Should we continue our search?" Memoo asked, gesturing with a hoof to the streets.

However, before Hobart could respond, a shrill scream ricocheted through the town. Like a rocket, Sen was off, dashing on all fours towards the source of the sound. Memoo and Hobart looked to each other and went off after him.

A large crowd stood before them, creating a semi-circle in the middle of the street.

Sen shifted his way through, with Hobart darting after him and Memoo parting the crowd with polite words and her added size. A scene unfolded itself before the trio's eyes.

Two Pokémon stood at opposite sides of one another. One cowered away, his eyes wide and, the other…

"What's wrong with her eyes?" Hobart gasped.

Where the Zangoose's eyes should've been a shadowy substance leeked; spilling out into the atmosphere like the corrupted air around a Gastly. The Pokémon snarled, razor sharp teeth bared at her opponent.

From where they stood, horror stricken, the trio could hear the other quietly mumbling, "No, no, no." Over and over. The Phanpy was shaking his head, mouth open in terror at the white-and-red mongoose that loomed close to his vision. "Please, please tell me you're alright, Zandra. Please."

The Zangoose unsheathed her claws in response.

In a flash, all hell broke loose. The Zangoose leapt at the cowering Phanpy, pinning him to the floor and raising one paw to bring it smashing down against his face.

Swiftly, the crowd surged forwards. An Ursaring grabbed hold of the Zangoose's arms and forced them behind her back, whilst a Linoone gently pushed the shivering Phanpy out of harm's way. Other Pokémon gathered around the snarling, spitting Zangoose, pinning her to the floor before she could cause anymore damage, and calling out for someone to go and get some of the guards.

"What… was that…?" Hobart asked in a whisper, his ears pulled back, his heart hammering against his chest.

"That is what happens when you're left Charmless," Sen responded, turning his head away from the sight.

Memoo moved in front to block whatever else was happening from view. "Come on," she said quietly. "Let's get away from here."


	3. Conflict

**Chapter III  
**

* * *

**Conflict  
**

* * *

They continued to hunt around the town until evening settled upon the air, its orange-pink hue setting the buildings roofs alight with burning colours. Sen had suggested for them to find a place to sleep, so all three of them headed back to the inn as one.

They booked a pair of rooms; one for Hobart and another for the two merchants. They bid each other goodnight and retired to their rooms, exhausted.

Throughout the night, Hobart tossed and turned underneath the bedsheets, his mind filled with anxiety for the wellbeing of his brother. "Please, please be alright," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to rid himself of the tears that threatened to spill.

When he finally succumbed to unconsciousness, his dreams were haunted by the image of a shadow-eyed Zangoose pursuing him through endless dark corridors…

"Hey, Hobart!" Rapid knocking echoed about the room; dragging Hobart from his sleep. He yawned, pushing himself up into a sitting position with one paw, before rubbing at his eyes sleepily with the other. He felt more exhausted than the day before, which was saying something.

The rapping on the door resounded again, followed up with the calls of a familiar voice. Stretching, Hobart wiggled out from under the covers and hopped onto the plush carpeted floor. He stood still for a moment, trying to rid himself of the clinging weariness, before he lumbered over to the door. As he opened it, Sen smiled and gave him a cheerful wave.

"Mornin'," he said merrily. "Thought I'd come to wake you up so that you didn't miss out on breakfast."

"… Thanks," Hobart replied, his voice sounding duller than he meant it to.

Sen's ears twitched back momentarily. He studied Hobart for a few seconds before gesturing with a paw for him to follow. "Better hurry up, don't want to be left with nothing, huh? Memoo's kind of a fast eater." He chuckled, flashing a grin at Hobart before turning to jog back the way he had come.

Hobart padded as quickly as he could after him, glancing around every so often at his surroundings. It was surprising just how big the inn was, considering how mediocre it'd looked from the outside. The hallway that the pair walked along was fairly long, fitted with doors made of varnished pine and a comfortable red carpeted floor. Each door was marked with a symbol similar to each element of every Pokémon. Hobart caught the etching of something akin to flames as he passed by one in particular. It made him wonder briefly, what they stood for, but then he thought to ask it aloud.

"What do all of these symbols stand for?"

Sen looked back, and then to one of the doors. "Oh, that's so the members of staff here can place a lodger in the right kind of room for them. Each marking indicates the typage, which means that past those doors are rooms especially resistant to each individual Pokémon's elements; keeping accidental fire spills and the likes to a minimum."

Hobart couldn't help but feel impressed at the care that must have gone into each lodging. It was incredibly well thought out.

As they descended the spiraling staircase, Memoo headed up them to meet them halfway. "Good morning, Hobart," she said with a kindly smile.

"Not going in to steal all of the food, then?" Sen asked with an outburst of laughter.

Memoo's expression turned sour. "I was just waiting for you two. It's impolite for a lady accompanied by friends to eat before them." She sniffed and turned to walk back down the stairs, her head held up high.

Sen shook his head with an amused smirk. "Always a grump in the mornings… Well, come on, let's go get ourselves a snack."

They hurried the rest of the way downstairs and made their way into the dining room. It was a large white-and-minty blue space, clean and fresh smelling. A pair of large windows revealed the flower filled garden that bloomed outside; a large table was positioned close to it. Already, it was busy with Pokémon seated around it.

As Sen and Hobart sat down, Memoo shuffled over to take a seat opposite.

A Butterfree shifted some for Hobart, her wings brushing briefly against his back. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology and then began to nibble on a piece of fruit.

Gossip, it seemed, was quick to spread around Oak Town; the table filled with chatter about the Zangoose from the day before.

"I never thought I'd ever see such a thing," squeaked a Jigglypuff from the other side of the table, his blue eyes creasing into a frown.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," grumbled a Pansear. "It's been so long since those kind of things have happened that I'd almost forgotten what it's like to see them with my own two eyes."

"I hope it never happens again," a Leafeon added, glancing over from where she sat close to the windows.

Sen, Hobart and Memoo remained silent throughout most of the conversation, only chipping in when a question veered their way.

They didn't really wish to dwell on what had happened yesterday.

* * *

"I'm sorry Hobart but, we have to leave."

Sen's words took Hobart by surprise. He'd almost forgotten that the pair had business to take care of elsewhere. His ears drooped slightly but, he held himself steady, not wanting to appear too distraught in the eyes of the two kindly Pokémon. He had to admit, in the past day or so of knowing them, they'd grown on him.

"I'm sorry to see you go," he told them both. "I wish you the best of luck with your business."

Sen nodded, his ears tilting back in a mixture of worry and sadness for the young Oshawott. "I wish you the best of luck in finding your brother." He reached forward and patted Hobart on the shoulder, then drew back.

"We'll be sure to keep a lookout for him on our journey," Memoo told him, stepping closer to gently nuzzle Hobart.

"Oh hey, before we set off, we thought we'd give you these." Sen hopped toward Hobart, brandishing a pair of small pouches in each clenched paw.

"What are they?" Hobart asked, curiosity pricking at his brain as they were set upon his outstretched palms.

"There's Poké in one – enough to last for a long while – and food in the other." Sen smiled at him, his thick tail brushing the cobblestone floor.

A rush of shock ran through Hobart, and he stared down at the gifts with wide eyes. "Are you sure it's alright to give them to me?"

"Of course." Sen nodded. "I think it's the least we can do, considering the fact that we're leaving at such short notice."

"We wanted to help you in your search for a bit longer than this," Memoo told Hobart. "We hadn't been expecting such a quick change in plans so soon."

A wave of gratitude overtook the shock and, for the first time since Andrew's disappearance, Hobart gave them both a true, geniune smile. "Thank you so much. You've both been a huge help."

"Aw, t'is nothing." Sen glanced down at his feet sheepishly. "Couldn't really leave you out there in the fens alone, you know?"

"Besides, being that we're such a pair of travellers, we're sure to stumble across your brother sooner or later, if you don't yourself," Memoo said. "We'll be quick to send a message, if that is ever the case."

"It means a lot to me," Hobart replied, his smile still plastered upon his face.

"Well, take care, Hobart." Sen grinned at the Oshawott, then turned away, glancing back once to wave at him.

Memoo's eyes crinkled into a friendly smile before she followed after her friend. The pair's forms slowly retreating into the morning crowd.

"Bye!" Hobart called after them, waving in return. As soon as their familiar forms could be seen no more, Hobart sighed, his stomach twisting with anxiety. "Well, better prepare myself for a long journey. Andrew's definitely not around here, anyway." His paws brushed against his scalchop briefly as the anxiety threatened to overwhelm him. He breathed in once, then out, closing his eyes slowly.

_I can do this._

He reopened his eyes and scampered off in the direction – he was sure- of the shopping center.

It took a good few hours for him, first, to find the right shops, and then, second, to decide on what to bring with him. In the end, he settled on a small backpack, a pawful of extra food, and a container of fresh water.

_This should do me for a while, _he thought to himself as he went to-and-fro through the crowd. _Now, if Andrew had walked through this town, then left. In which direction would he go after? _A frown creased his brow as he pondered this; stopping to glance back the way he had come, and then in the direction of the way he was going. _The guards would have noticed if he'd walked back through the gates, me, Sen and Memoo__ had__ checked. So, that leaves… forward. _

His brother was always one for that. Back when they were younger, he'd always taken the most obvious path over the least used one.

Hitching his backpack straps further up his shoulders, Hobart set off for the exit, his expression determined.

With the traffic of Pokémon running to-and-fro, it took him a while before he finally stood close to the gates that lead outside of the town. For a moment, he hesitated. _What if he's actually still in town? _But, his logical thoughts took hold. _He definitely isn't around here anymore, with the three of us search__ing we were bound to find him some time yesterday._

He walked through the gates.

* * *

**Aether Woods Border**

The area outside of the town was less marsh-like and more of a reminder of the plains that Hobart remembered traversing across with Andrew. Made up of dry soil and greenery planted by the Pokémon of Oak Town, it spread out for quite a ways, before darker greens and browns paved the way forwards, surrounded by large pointed trees. A path lead the way through to the edge of what Hobart assumed must be a forest.

"Quite large from the looks of things," Hobart murmured, his ears twitching to catch the sounds of birdsong that arose from the depths of the woodlands. … _I hope Andrew's okay._

Pushing back the rising worry, he began his trip down the pathway, watching out for any feral Pokémon that might come his way.

His short journey was a quiet one, filled only with the sound of birdsong and the rustle of the trees and bushes in the breeze.

The closer he got to the forest, the darker the colours of the surrounding greenery became. It was almost as if the slowly changing colour itself was warning Hobart of the dangers that could possibly lurk within the woods. However, the thought of Andrew journeying through this forest alone pushed him onwards. He truly hoped that the Ninetales hadn't followed them out this far…

* * *

**Aether Woods**

The trees reached up to the sky above, obscuring the bright cloudless sky and drenching Hobart in darkness. He was glad that the light still managed to trickle undeterred through the roof of branches; rays of sunlight beamed through, dotting the leaf covered floor in random intervals.

Taking a breath and exhaling, Hobart stepped further in. _Would this place be considered a Mystery Dungeon? _He was unsure. Yes, it was ominous, which was one of the greater factors of a Mystery Dungeon but, it didn't exactly feel like one.

Not that Hobart had ever been inside a Mystery Dungeon before.

He kept on the alert, his ears flicking forwards and back in an effort to pick up the faintest of sounds. He kept glancing around, straining his dark grey eyes through the darker patches of the surrounding forest for anything dangerous.

_In such a place as this it'd be hard for a Pokémon as big as a Ninetales to successfully navigate through here, _he mused, heading further into the depths of the woods with his paws reaching up to clasp at the backpack's straps.

A growl emanated from the far left and Hobart quickly turned, altering his stance into a defensive position, his arms hovering at either side of him. His furless tail swished out behind him as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of the gloomy patch. "Who's there?" he called, hoping his voice sounded far more intimidating than how he felt.

A snarl came as the only response. Moments after, a dark shape leapt out from the shadows with bared teeth and glowing eyes.

Hobart stepped back away from the beast automatically and the feral creature stepped out into a beam of light. Coarse dark and light grey fur and sharp teeth, that was all he could really see. That, and those eyes; glowing gold and deep red. Some deep instinct told him to run but, he felt glued to the spot, his gaze fixed on the savage hyena-dog that stood before him.

It snarled again, lurching forwards with a snap of its jaws. Hobart jumped and instantaneously doused the feral Pokémon with water. It yelped in surprise; bowled backwards by the force of the liquid, and Hobart quickly broke into a run. With the bag on his back, he couldn't afford to drop onto all fours. Worried that he'll end up damaging it.

He hoped that the shock of the attack would be enough to deter his assailant. But, the feeling of hot breath on his heels told him otherwise.

Sweeping round, he bashed into the beast's side and raked at its nose as it fell. Secretly hoping that it would run off so he wouldn't have to resort to more violence. However, it was quick to get back on its paws; lunging at him in an instant. Its jaws wide open in preperation to Bite down on its foe.

Hobart dodged, just barely, wincing as his right ear was clipped, then kicked out at the Pokémon. It snarled, charging into him with a Tackle that sent him reeling.

Struggling to keep balance, he blasted off a second Water Gun at his foe.

The Poochyena yelped and attempted to dodge. Its back-legs were caught in the blast however, and it was sent careening to the floor in a heap.

Panting from exertion, Hobart turned around and ran. It didn't matter if his chest and stomach hurt, which they did. He just wanted to get as far away from that creature as possible.

The further he ran, the darker it became, until finally, the beams of light that peppered the woods were gone. Hobart stopped to lean against a tree, his heart beating ten to the dozen. That'd been a close one. He sighed heavily and flopped to the floor. He didn't even know how far into the forest he was now, what with that thing chasing him.

He groaned and slipped off his backpack, resting it as close to his side as possible before leaning back against the trunk of the tree. _I'll rest here for a short while, _he thought. _I doubt that Pokémon can follow me all the way out here now. … Hopefully I knocked it out with that last blast of water._

The echoes of the forest resounded around him and he resisted the urge to shiver.

For the first time in his life he felt truly alone… and frightened.


	4. Discovery

**Chapter IV  
**

* * *

**Discovery  
**

* * *

He couldn't sleep; the sounds around him too loud, the danger too great. _What if I was to drift off and then some wild Pokémon was to find me? _He twined his fingers through one of the thick tufts of fur that hung around his neck. _It would eat me as a snack without a second thought._

He glanced around, his ears alert and straining forward. He couldn't let his guard down for even a moment, or else the unthinkable could happen.

His heart clenched at the thought of Andrew venturing in this far. _This might be even worse than being chased by that Ninetales, _he thought worriedly. _What if-_ _No, I won't let anything happen__ to him__. I'll find him, I will._

He drew his backpack closer and placed a paw on top of it, wondering for a few seconds whether it was worth opening it up here. However, the thought of it drawing wild Pokémon to him made him abandon that thought. He sighed and got to his feet, crouching to pick up the bag and sling it back over his shoulders. As he slipped the straps back in place, he kept his eyes out for his past assailant.

_It looks like it has given up the chase… Good._

He straightened, glancing around to try and figure out where to go next. His surroundings appeared much the same, with gloom everywhere he looked. _Not good, _he thought to himself grimly. _I don't know if I can even remember the way back._

He'd never been good at tracking.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to head back in the direction of where he thought he'd been previously. However, simultaneously, two thoughts hit him like a conjured barrier. What if he stumbled across that feral Pokémon again by taking this path? And, what was that noise?

His ears tilted back and he turned his head. It didn't sound like the twitter of birds, that was for sure. But, it didn't sound like an enemy either. In fact, it sounded almost like someone… crying.

Confused, he turned fully back around, tilting his left ear in the direction of the noise. Intrigue went rushing through and around his head, drawing him forward.

After a moments hesitation, he commenced his march through the foliage, straining his eyes to see past the darkness. He kept his paws out, ensuring that he wouldn't bump into anything. Every so often, he would glance to the floor, careful to avoid anything that could cause him to stumble or trip. The trek was a long one, filled with wariness and caution of the environment and the worry of bumping into an unwanted meeting with another wild Pokémon.

As he slowly edged his way through the woods, the sound grew ever clearer. Soon, he could easily pick up the echo of sniffling. _**Is**__ someone__crying?__ But why? _Confusion reared up in his mind and he carefully attempted to pick up the pace, a bout of worry settling itself alongside the bewilderment.

As he brushed aside the bobbing leaves of a growing bush, his eyes set on a beam of sunlight; the first one he'd seen in quite some time. As his gaze lifted, he caught sight of many more scattered about the small clearing.

Within the middle of it, he found a small bundle of dark grey and red fur.

He flinched; his mind automatically supplying him with the concern that this was the enemy he had fought and ran away from. However, as he continued to study the strange Pokémon, his common sense pushed away the illogical thoughts.

Silently, he stepped closer, wary of the stranger. Even if they were crying, he wasn't entirely certain that they'd be friendly. It might just be a ruse but, it was almost heart-breaking to see a Pokémon look so distraught.

Its paws were covering its face, its tail curled close to his side.

"E-excuse me," Hobart began, stepping right out into the open. "Are you alright?"

The Pokémon sniffed and raised its head, looking up at him with brown, panic-filled eyes. "… No," he answered, shifting a little so he was facing away from the Oshawott.

"Oh." Hobart fell silent, the silence stretching out between the two Pokémon for a long while. Sometimes broken only by the sniffs of the stranger.

Finally, the strange Pokémon lifted his head. "Do you know a way out of this forest?"

"Yeah," his response was out of his mouth before he truly thought it over. Would he be able to find his way back to the entrance of these woods? He was unsure… But, he didn't really want to trek all the way back… Andrew wouldn't be there.

Rubbing a fore-paw over his face, the stranger pushed himself up into a sitting position. "… Would you be willing to lead me out?" he asked, tilting an ear back as he looked at Hobart.

"I…" Hobart hesitated a moment. He wasn't sure if he could even lead this guy out, let alone find the exit himself. "I guess."

The Pokémon flashed him a small smile. "Th-thanks." He sniffed again, reaching up to rub at his nose with a paw. "… What's your name?"

"Hobart."

"Mine's Hazel."

"What are you doing out here, Hazel?" Hobart asked, tilting his head in a questioning manner at the cub.

Hazel scrunched up his snout in thought, then shook his head. "Don't remember," he murmured, once more rubbing his paw across his nose.

He seemed to have relaxed a little, which was good. But, he didn't remember how he'd gotten out here? That was strange. Hobart studied him for a couple of moments, then looked away in thought.

An aura of quiet descended over the pair, with Hazel twitching his ears left and right to pick up the faintest of sounds, and Hobart pondering quietly about his and this Hazel's route.

"… I came from Oak Town," Hobart said, breaking the silence abruptly. "Would you like me to take you there?"

Hazel shook his head vigorously. "No, I… I don't really want to go to a town."

The Oshawott's brows furrowed in confusion. Why didn't he want to go to a town?

Hazel caught his look, and flicked his ears backward closer to his head. "I don't know why," he said quietly. "I just… have this feeling." He left it at that, the last of his words trailing off to fade away into the open air.

It was a relief, in a sense, to know that he wouldn't have to make an attempt at reaching the town, as he'd prefer not to visit it a second time. Still, it was odd as to why Hazel didn't want to go to an area in which he'd be safe.

"Well, let's get going then," Hobart said, gesturing to Hazel to follow as he set off walking for the opposite side of the clearing.

He heard a stifled gasp of pain and swiftly turned back around.

Hazel was half-standing, half-crouching, his left hind-leg held scrunched up close to his side. His expression had contorted into one of agony but, he pulled away a little as Hobart went back over. "No, it's okay. I'm fine, really…"

"You're hurt," Hobart said simply, his concern growing for the stranger. He was suddenly glad that he'd thought to buy some provisions for injuries such as this. "Let me take a look at it."

Hazel seemed almost wary, his wide-eyes fixed on Hobart as he moved closer to him. His heavily furred tail swished across the ground, his ears folding backwards against his head. "I just sprained it, that's all."

Why was he being so stubborn? What if it was a more serious injury than that? Hobart frowned but, tried to cover it up with a determined expression as Hazel glanced to him. A lot of things about this Pokémon didn't make sense, like what kind of Pokémon was he? And, why was he out here in the first place? However, he kept those thoughts to himself, focusing instead on the current task of removing bandages from his bag.

He walked around to face Hazel, holding out an oran berry, which he'd withdrawn from his bag moments before. "Eat this, it should help with the pain."

Hazel cautiously took it in his teeth and chewed, as Hobart headed back over to inspect his leg. Blood seeped from a large cut and a strange burn mark raced along the top of it; Hobart twined his fingers about one of his neck-fur tufts in worry. It looked bad. Though, it wasn't impossible for it to be fixed up. He crouched, unwrapping the bandages he held, before placing them by his side.

First, he needed to see about cleaning out the injury.

He glanced down at the objects beside him. Most of these wouldn't help but, one in particular did stand out to him. An ointment, made from a mixture of berries. He remembered his mother using this on him once when he'd accidentally gotten on the wrong side of a Shuppet. It'd helped to soothe the burns and bites. Hopefully, it would work on Hazel's leg.

He picked it up and carefully undid the leaf wrapping that bound it. As soon as he had scooped up some of the ointment and rubbed it against the burn and scratches, Hazel let out a hiss of pain. However, Hobart remained silent, focusing on his task.

He put down the ointment, now picking up the bandages, and began slowly binding them around Hazel's hind-leg. "There, that should do it," Hobart said, scooping up what was left of his items and walking back over to his bag.

"It feels… much better, thank you." Hazel hesitantly straightened his leg, wincing a little as pain shot up it. Although, Hobart was relieved to see he was capable of putting most of his weight down on it already.

"Do you think you'll be alright for walking?" he asked, pushing the items back away in the bag and closing the flap.

"I think so," Hazel replied, limping over to Hobart.

"If you need help, just tell me," Hobart said, slipping his arms through the bag's straps.

Hazel nodded.

"Right, let's go this way." Hobart gestured with a nod of his head to the opening beyond the clearing. It looked brighter than the wooded enclosure he'd left behind...

He hoped he wasn't just leading this Pokémon astray.

_What if we end up going in circles? _The worry came crashing down around him but, he fought it off with a determined frown. _It's lighter that way, so I don't think we'll end up getting lost. Besides, others must have come this way before me. I doubt that they ended up getting into too much trouble coming through here._

_Besides the odd feral Pokémon, _his mind reminded him. His ears twitched backward but he kept on walking. _I managed to fight off one, I don't think I'll have trouble fighting off another. Especially when I'm__ going to have to keep__ an eye on Hazel. _He glanced back to the limping Pokémon. _I don't know him that well but, I wouldn't want anyone getting hurt because of me._

To pass the time, Hobart decided it would be best to engage in conversation with his new companion. The only question that stuck to the front of his mind was of what kind of species Hazel was. Though, he didn't want to seem rude. He opened his mouth, then closed it, pondering on how to best phrase the question. "If… you don't mind me asking, what kind of Pokémon are you?" He kept his tone as polite as possible, taking another glance back at Hazel, who seemed to be keeping up pretty well, despite his injury.

"I don't mind," he responded. "I'm a Zorua."

"Oh." He fell quiet a moment, reflecting on this. "I've never heard of them before."

"We… mostly keep to our own kind," Hazel said. "Mostly, we live in woods such as this one but, I don't think this is where I live…"

Hobart's ears twitched back. Hazel seemed… strange. Maybe it was just the way that he spoke, or maybe it was due to the fact that he seemed a little too young to be out here alone. Whatever it was, it carried on nipping at Hobart's brain regardless. _It might have something to do with his species, _he thought, shifting the bag a little to fit more comfortably against his shoulder blades.

The forest around them was growing a little more spacious, the trees less of a problem in blotting out the sunlight, although bushes large and small still dotted their chosen path, speckled here and there with brightly coloured flowers.

The darker world that Hobart had plunged headfirst into earlier was gone, replaced with a picture-esque scene that put his mind at rest. Still, enemies could just be as likely to lurk in a brighter space such as this, so he tread carefully; his eyes still drifting once or twice back to his companion to ensure that he hadn't fallen behind.

* * *

Safety led them carefully through the rest of the forest.

Once or twice eyes appeared from the gloomy patches beyond the sunbeams to watch them with a wild and hungry look. However they never ventured further out of the darkness, and Hobart and Hazel were free to carry on their journey through the woods without incident.

Hobart brushed past the last of the leaves that clung to his semi-water-repellent fur, glancing once more back to his companion, whom lingered a little behind. "We're almost there now. I can see the exit," he told him.

Hazel simply nodded back, focusing on keeping his footing as dead branches and roots reared upwards from the leafy floor.

Sunlight rained down upon the forest earth from a short distance away. Hobart turned back to help Hazel continue his trek forwards. They were almost there, he could see a meadow beyond the forest, one that he was certain was far different to the short woodland pathway he'd left behind.

As they drew ever closer Hobart took notice of the Bug-types that meandered about the meadow.

Relief flooded through him the in the instance that they stepped paw upon the world beyond the woods.

However, something threw off the relief swiftly; throughout the rest of his journey through the woodlands he hadn't come across a single sign of his brother. As instantaneously as the calm sensation had come, it was gone, replaced instead by that of growing worry - it nipped at his heart.

_Will I ever find him? _he asked himself. _What if I've gone through all of this just to find out he's still lost somewhere in those woods? _But, he couldn't exactly turn back now, he needed to wait until Hazel recovered first. He couldn't just leave him here by himself.

… In some ways, he reminded him of his brother. Maybe it was because he was closer to Andrew's age than his own, or possibly because he just felt that need there to protect him.

He watched as Hazel limped over to a particular patch of grass and settled down upon it with a quiet sigh. For now, he'd stay with Hazel. Only until he was certain that he would be alright by himself but, still, the worry for his brother's safety was there, lingering in the back of his mind.

He truly hoped he would find him soon.


	5. Vigilance

**Chapter V  
**

* * *

**Vigilance  
**

* * *

Not one to sleep in open spaces, Hobart had stayed up all night to watch over Hazel. He had settled down beside him a few minutes after the fox himself had; taking out a couple of berries to eat and sip from his water was little to no talk, with Hazel murmuring about how all he wanted to do was rest.

Soon, Hobart was left alone with his thoughts, and, as the sun began to set, his eyes glazed over, his mind returning him to his past memories.

* * *

"_Dad! Dad! Look at what I can do!" The young Oshawott beamed up at his dad, his eyes shining with happiness._

_The Samurott smiled kindly down at his son. "What is it, Hobart?"_

_"Watch this!" Hobart squeaked, hopping a short distance away from his dad. He hunkered down on all fours, then abruptly dashed forwards. Water bubbled up all around him, encasing him momentarily, before bursting into droplets as soon as he came to a swift stop moments later._

_He stared up happily at the Samurott, who crouched down to ruffle the fur on his head. "Well done, you're definitely improving. Still, practice makes perfect. Make sure you keep at it, my son."_

_"I've gotta show it to Andrew!"_

_"I'm sure he'll love it." Faren chuckled. "However, helping around the den comes first. Go find your mother and help her out."_

_Hobart pouted a little, but at Faren's gentle shove, his pout perked up into a small smile. "Kay!" he said loudly, hurrying off at a trot._

_The cooling shadows of the raised tunnel was a relief after so long outside in the sun. Sure, the repeated practice of one of Hobart's favourite moves had helped, but inbetween that the warmth had soaked through his fur making it hard to fully concentrate. He sighed quietly, pushing onward through the darkness of the den as it began to slope downwards._

_The sound of a bawling infant reached his ears and he tilted them back. Andrew wasn't in a good mood again. Hopefully he'd get the chance to cheer him up soon. Mom probably would ask him to do the chores though, while she saw to Andrew - she never was quite able to quiet him when he was like this._

_"Mom! Dad told me to come and help you out!" he called._

_"Well, that's mighty kind of him," came the response, echoing back to him down the tunnel. "I'm having a spot of bother cleaning this pot. I just can't quite get some of the stains out."_

_"Then I'll do it!" Hobart said, padding out into the open space of the living room._

_The light-coloured Dewott smiled down at him, her eyes creasing with quiet laughter. "If you're sure. It'll be a difficult task for one so small."_

_Hobart puffed his chest out, standing to attention in front of his mom. "It'll be no trouble for me!"_

_"Well then, little warrior." She laughed. "It's in the kitchen."_

_As she turned away to tend to Andrew, Hobart marched off down the left tunnel, putting on a determined facade. Soon he was facing the cozy small space of the kitchen. He looked around, soon spotting the pot hanging over its usual spot over the heating stones. Padding over to the set of chairs that graced the end of the room, he dragged one over and hopped upon it, stretching his fore-paws out towards the pot's handle. _

_Carefully, he unhooked it from its wire and unsteadily climbed back down from his perch. He set the pot down, then moved back to inspect it. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it._

_"Has Mom tricked me?" Hobart murmured, twitching one ear back as his eyes roved over the object. He abruptly had the thought to check on its inner-section, however. Stepping closer, he leaned in._

_Stains lined the sides of the inside of the pot. Hobart reached in to rub a finger against one the marks, taking his paw out soon after to examine it._

_Nope, it hadn't stained his finger._

_He looked back at the pot in thought. Maybe if he was to spray it with water... Leaning in with a breath, he ejected a small stream of liquid into the inside of the pot._

_He did this multiple times, each time with an increased amount of success. As soon as he was certain that it was squeaky clean, he attempted to lift it, spilling a few droplets of water onto the floor in his struggle. Pausing, he carefully placed it back down, then scurried out to get his mom to help._

_"I've finished cleaning it!" He hurried over to tug at the blanket of stormy blue fur that clung to his mother's waist._

_She turned around with a kindly expression, her chocolate brown eyes abruptly darkening to deep red. Her form morphed into that of a Ninetales, its eight tails lashing out behind it. Cups and bowls crashed to the ground as its appendages thrashed. From somewhere behind the beast, Hobart could hear the fearful crying of his brother._

_A growl reverberated throughout the room. "You'll be no more. Just. Like. Him!"_

_The Ninetales lunged, his jaws snapping down on blue fur._

_There was a flash of white, a shrill shriek... Then, nothing.  
_

* * *

Hobart jerked awake with a start.

He had nodded off.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of what he'd bore witness to. The memories had no longer been just that - Hobart frowned through his weariness - they'd twisted into a nightmare.

He got to his feet stretching. Beside him he heard the slumbering breaths of his new companion.

_Looks like I didn't cry out then,_ Hobart thought, looking to Hazel. _Either that, or he's just a heavy sleeper._

He shivered, wrapping his arms about himself in an effort to keep the sudden onslaught of chills away. It wasn't particularly cold, but that dream hadn't been exactly the warmest, either. He hoped that he wouldn't have to suffer through something like that again.

_That Ninetales couldn't have found Andrew. I'm sure he's fine._

_I'll find him before that brute._

"Good mornin'." Hazel yawned.

Hobart glanced back at him ; he forced a smile on his face. "Good morning."

"Did you... get any sleep?"

"Kind of," Hobart said, looking away.

Wait, did he still have his bag? He checked, and found, with relief, that he did. If that had gone, well... it wasn't worth thinking about.

"How's your leg?"

Hazel pushed himself up into a sitting position, glancing to the aforementioned leg. "It's better, I think. Doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday."

Despite his current mood, Hobart found himself smiling. "That's good to know."

Hazel nodded and shifted into a more comfortable position. "... Hobart, I have a question."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Would you... let me stay with you for a while?"

Hobart looked to him with a curious expression. A feeling of uncertainty settled in his stomach. Stay with him? Well, it wasn't right to just let the younger Pokémon go off by himself. Things seemed to be getting more hectic lately, and the thought of abandoning someone, especially someone that reminded him vaguely of Andrew, was a little hard to bear. "Yeah, of course you can." He smiled reassuringly at the Zorua.

Hazel breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I - I don't think I would have been able to go on alone." He glanced down at his fore-paws, shuffling his left about in the dirt.

Hobart felt a jolt of compassion for the child go through him and he stepped closer and crouched beside him. "Well, you won't be alone now," he said gently. "I'll look out for you."

Hazel's ears flicked back in surprise and he fixed his gaze briefly upon Hobart before looking away again. "... Thanks."

Hobart dipped his head, then straightened, turning his head to survey the field.

It extended out as far as the eye could see; a lush, green landscape that lay in sharp contrast with the woods they had left behind. Insectoid Pokémon fluttered from one hedge to another, hovering close to the vibrant flowers that decorated them. Everything here felt safe, secure. Even the air itself radiated it.

However, Hobart still felt a sense of wariness.

It wouldn't do to let his guard down, even in such a beautiful place as this.

"We should get moving," Hobart said, reaching down to pick up his backpack.

"Where are we going?" Hazel tilted his head as if in emphasis to his question, before getting to his paws.

"Well..." Was it right to tell him? He was going to be journeying with him, after all, and he couldn't exactly lie to him. He didn't like lying.

After a few seconds pause - in which time he shouldered the backpack - he decided to simply be outright with him. "I'm searching for my brother. He's... he's gone missing. If we keep going in this direction, we're bound to find him. I'm sure of it."

For a moment, Hazel looked as if he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head. "That... sounds like... Well, I'll help. It's the least I can do after what you did for me."

Hobart gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

With the bag secure, he gestured for Hazel to follow him and took off down the small slope. The strong scent of flowers hit his nostrils, mixing with the tangy smell of fresh grass. Butterfree fluttered upwards in clouds, bird Pokémon called from above.

Hobart kept his guard up.

The pair traveled in silence for a while, their gaze drifting every so often to the left or right in wariness of possible foes.

What heightened the feeling was the slightly frightening fact that none of the Pokémon were speaking. No, all that reached Hazel and Hobart's ears was an occasional cry, chirp or screech. It was unnerving to say the least.

The further they trekked, the wider the greenery seemed to spread out. Hobart held tight to the backpack's straps, his eyes focusing on the path ahead.

"It... goes on for quite a way, doesn't it?" Hazel said, turning his head to follow a swooping Taillow in its arc across the sky.

"It does." It was slightly worrying actually. Was this yet another misleading labyrinth, or a Mystery Dungeon? Now the latter was an nerve-wracking thought. There was no telling what could happen in a Mystery Dungeon.

"Hmm, hold up a moment." Hazel stopped.

Hobart glanced back at him. "What is it?"

"I just thought I'd heard… Yes! There it is again! I think we're close to the ocean."

"What? Really? This doesn't look like the kind of place that you'd expect to find close to the seaside."

"I'm certain. I stayed close to the ocean before, I'd know its sound anywhere."

"Alright then, lead the way."

Hazel wagged his tail enthusiastically, then turned to the left, leading Hobart down yet another slope. They seemed to be everywhere around here.

As they walked, a dim sound reached Hobart's ears. With every few minutes that passed, it became clearer. The gentle whoosh of waves could be heard beneath the sounds of the meadow's inhabitants.

Soon, the grassy landscape began to give way to dried earth and, further along, gritty sand that stuck between the toes, stubbornly refusing to release its grip with each step the Pokémon took.

Hobart suddenly stopped with a gasp.

The distant sound of the ocean was now a loud, yet soothing rustle of water against the seashore. The glittering water stretched out across the horizon. It was a wonder to behold.

* * *

**Opal Beach**

The Oshawott couldn't help but beam.

He felt happy, joyous even. It felt like he'd come back home.

"I thought so," Hazel said, looking out at the beach with a cheerful gleam in his eyes. "Maybe your brother's around here?" He turned to look at Hobart.

Tearing his eyes away from the beautiful sight of the ocean, he nodded. "It's possible." He felt a faint flicker of hope in his heart.

"Do you think we should split up and search...?"

Hobart shook his head. "I think it's better if we stay together." He didn't want anything to happen to Hazel in his absence.

"Okay."

Together they began to scour the beach for clues. Footprints, marks, anything that would reveal evidence that someone had been here recently.

Just like the meadow, the beach was huge. An immense sand-encrusted land with soothing sounds and rolling waves. Here and there, small rocks jutted out from the ground, a layer of pebbles scattering the spaces around them. Hobart tripped over them, once or twice; struggling to keep his balance as the world around him veered closer to the rocky ground. Despite that, he searched every nook-and-cranny, determined to find some clue that his brother had been, or was here.

He couldn't bear to think of the fact that something bad might have happened to him. It was a terrible thing to dwell on. But, still, it rose up time and again in his mind, making his thoughts turn to that of the Ninetales and his terrible nature. Why was he after them? What did he _want_? These questions buzzed around his skull. He shook his head to clear them.

"Hobart, come quick! I think I've found something!"

Hobart turned, suddenly on the alert. "What is it?" The words were out of his mouth before he even had the time to think.

As he darted over, Hazel gestured with a paw to something that glittered half-buried beneath the sand. "It looks like the waves couldn't wash this away."

"It's stuck," Hobart said, crouching beside it. It gleamed silver in the light; a strange object – one that the Oshawott had never seen before.

He waited for the lapping water to pull away and then brushed aside the sand that held the item in its place. He studied it a moment, Hazel leaning in to take a closer look, and then scooped it gently out from its resting place.

Holding it in both hands, he turned it from side to side. It was definitely an odd thing. With a transparent glass cover that covered the middle of the silver object in a circle, revealing, underneath it, a black arrow attached to the middle of a white and red background. Watching as the black arrow swung to the left, Hobart jumped as Hazel unexpectedly spoke up, "I've seen something like that before; it's a compass."

"A compass?" Hobart asked, keeping his eyes on the strange contraption.

"Yeah, it helps travellers to find their way. See how it has those symbols carved around the arrow? Those are used to direct any Pokémon in the right direction when they check it."

"That's strange… I've never heard of anything like that before."

"They're pretty rare. I've only ever physically seen two in my lifetime."

The two quickly broke off of their conversation when a loud groan floated through the air toward them.

"What was that?" Hazel said quietly, tilting his ears in the direction of the noise with wide eyes.

"It sounded like somone's here. Someone might be in trouble!" Hobart looked around in alarm. That noise hadn't sounded good. Someone might be hurt!

A groan drifted upward again and Hobart looked to the left, rushing off soon after to get to the source of the sound. Hazel followed behind him, keeping at a short distance from the waves. Flecks of foam spat out at them as they passed.

A bedraggled shape lay upon the shore.

Hobart came to a stop close by, moving a little closer as Hazel paused beside him. The Oshawott walked around the figure at a short distance, wary, yet at the same time, concerned. In a couple of seconds, he was looking upon the face of an unconscious Buneary.

"What's he doing out here?" Hazel asked in a hushed tone.

Hobart shook his head. "I don't know, but I think we should move him away from the waves. He might end up getting carried off."

"Good idea."

They moved forward and grabbed hold of him, carefully pulling him away from the ocean and closer to the meadow's borders. Throughout it all, the Buneary remained unconscious.

"I'll go get something to cushion his head," Hazel said, before turning and dashing away.

Hobart glanced down at the rabbit. How had he gotten all the way out here? Odd…

He didn't know whether this was the oddest thing to happen today, or if that prize went to the discovery of that compass. Were the two connected? It seemed likely. Maybe this belonged to the Pokémon?

Hazel came scampering back with a mouthful of dried grass. He dropped it beside Hobart, then went off to go get some more. In that time, Hobart managed to rest the rabbit's head upon the bundle of grass, before Hazel's return.

"That should be enough," Hazel said, as soon as he'd dropped the second mouthful. "I wonder what he's doing all the way out here?"

Hobart shook his head. "I don't know, but we may soon find out. We definitely can't just leave him here in this condition."

Hazel sat down near him, curling his tail around his paws and glancing towards the Buneary. "That's true. I don't think we should stay here too long, though. I… I don't think it'll be safe."

"We won't," Hobart promised. "We'll wait just long enough to help this Buneary back to his feet, then be on our way."

It was at that moment that they heard the stranger groan, his head shifting and eyes flickering open. They both turned to look at him. "Wh- where am I?" he mumbled, blinking slowly.

"You're close to the beach," Hobart said.

"… Opal Beach?"

"Um, I'm not sure…"

"Is there a meadow close by?"

"Yeah."

The Buneary breathed out a gusty sigh. "Then, I made it. It's not too far now." He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. Immediately, he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position.

Hazel placed a paw on his shoulder. "Don't move just yet, you might hurt yourself."

He snorted. "Hurt myself? Nah, I'll be perfectly fine." The last of his words left him in a pained gasp and he almost fell back against the sand. However, he managed to keep himself upright, just barely; his teeth gritted in concentration. "They're just… bruises, nothing that I can't handle."

Hazel glanced over at Hobart, but he said nothing. He moved back a little to give the Pokémon some space.

"How did you end up here?" Hazel suddenly asked, drawing the attention of the Buneary.

"Well, I was on my way to Cresent Ville, but was attacked by an ugly as Giratina Octillery and his damned gang. Luckily I punched the git and his cronies to high heaven and made my escape, but they'd left their mark on me." He brushed his paw across his ribs and grimaced, then shook his head. "These simple aches an' pains won't stop me from reaching my goal. 'Sides, I'm close now. If what you're sayin' is true, then the meadow past this shore will take me to Crescent Ville."

"How can you be so sure?" Hazel tilted his head quizzically. "You could be on the wrong beach, for all you know."

"Whoa, all these questions… Leave a guy alone, would ya?" The Buneary grinned. "… I'm pretty sure that this is the right place. I can feel it. 'Sides, this looks like Harp Shore, now that I'm paying attention to it. The golden sands, the clear-blue water… Yup, it looks like the one."

Harp Shore? Hobart glanced around. He'd… heard of this place from his father. A long time ago he'd told him and Andrew that they'd all come here on a trip together as a family some day. Well, it was a nice place. It definitely looked like the kind of place where you could have a nice picnic. He'd have to let Andrew know about this when he found him.

"I have some berries and water, if you're hungry or thirsty," Hobart said, sitting down upon the sand.

The Buneary turned to look at him, flashing him a beaming smile. "That's mighty kind of you. I think food and drink would do wonders, thank you."

Hobart removed the bag from his back, unzipping it and withdrawing a few berries and the water container. He passed them over to the Buneary, who immediately began to chomp down on the berries. "Ya know, out of the bruises and hunger. It was actually the hunger that really got to me," the rabbit said around a mouthful of fruit. "It's silly really, but I definitely didn't bring enough vittles to last me throughout the journey. I ended up shambling about half-conscious, and I guess, I must've collapsed on this here beach." He shrugged.

"I don't think anyone can really fully plan out a journey in advance. Especially when it comes to food," Hazel piped up. "It runs out faster than you'd like when you're on the move."

"I agree with you there," the Buneary replied. "I guess it has left me with a moral though; bring more food next time." He laughed, pausing to drink from the container, before handing it back over to Hobart.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you traveling to Crescent Ville?" Hobart asked, placing the container back into his bag.

"Nah, I don't mind at all! I'm traveling to Crescent Ville for information. I'm searching for someone, you see."

"Information…?"

"Yup, information. Crescent Ville is renowned for being the best of the best when it comes to finding out concealed secrets and the likes. Apparently, it houses spies, which is supposedly where all of the information comes from."

Hazel leapt to his feet. "Spies!? That sounds so cool!"

_Crescent Ville, could someone there know something regarding my brother? _Hobart thought, watching as Hazel hopped up and down excitedly on the spot.

A swirl of excitement also took a hold of Hobart. If that was true, then he'd be one step closer to finding his brother. "Is it close to here?" he asked, turning to look at the Buneary.

"Yeah, it's not too far from here, if my calculations are correct."

"Maybe we'll find something concerning your brother there, Hobart," Hazel said, smiling over at him.

His stomach plummeted, and he found his gaze shifting from the Zorua to the Buneary. He hadn't wanted anyone else to find out. Especially not a stranger.

"Oh, are you in search of your brother?" the Buneary asked.

Quietly sighing, he nodded. "… Yeah, have you seen an Oshawott similar to me during your travels?" No harm in asking him now that it was out in the open.

The Buneary scratched at the back of his head, his brow furrowing in thought. "Nope, sorry, can't say that I have."

Well, it had been worth a shot.

"Huh, where's my manners? The name's Aren, glad to meet you both." He shook paws with Hobart and Hazel in turn, flashing them an amiable grin. "It's nice to meet such friendly faces after so long a time of meeting nasty ones." He paused a moment, frowning, then shook his head. "Ah, well, it was bound to happen on such an arduous journey."

"Mine's Hazel!" Hazel spoke up. "It's good to meet you."

"I'm Hobart," Hobart said with a nod. "... Is this yours, by any chance?" Hobart scooped up the compass from its place beside his bag and showed it to Aren.

He examined it for a moment, then his eyes alighted with recognition. "That's mine alright. Where in Arceus's name did you find it?"

Hazel gestured with his snout over to the area where they had stumbled across it. "It was half-buried beneath the sand."

"It's a good thing we found it when we did," Hobart added. "It could've been taken by the ocean's waves."

"That's a true point," Aren replied, with a thoughtful expression. "I'm glad you did find it. Without it, I'd be lost." He reached out a paw, but paused. "May I?" he asked Hobart.

"Sure. It's yours, after all." He handed it over to him.

As soon as it was in his grasp, Aren relaxed. "This – well, it's an heirloom. I got it from my pa. It's special to me. One of those keep it close to your heart kind of things."

"Is it… a Charm?" Hobart asked quietly.

Aren blinked, then burst out laughing. "No, definitely not. I often lost this thing about the house. If it'd been my Charm or even a secondary one, who knows how many times over I would have ended up like those other poor fellows. Nah, my Charm's a spell - granted to me by a friend of my ma and pa's. I'm very grateful for it, I tell ya. It's lasted me a long, long time."

"Oh, hey! I have one of those too! A powerful Psychic-type helped imprint it into my mind. It was pretty cool," Hazel said happily.

Aren turned to look at him in interest. "Really? I thought it was near impossible for a Psychic-type to imprint one upon a Dark-type. Usually your kind has to resort to physical Charms."

Hazel's expression turned thoughtful. "Well, she'd said that it'd taken a while, which I can believe. It felt like I was there for ages."

"You're lucky, then," Aren said. "Those kind of spells can last ya. They're more reliant than a physical Charm, in my opinion."

"So," he continued, turning to Hobart, "you after going to Crescent Ville? Once I've rested for a bit, I can take ya there, if you'd like."

Surprised, but also pleased with this sudden change of events, Hobart nodded. "That'd be great."

"Fantastic! Now, how about I tell ya a little story all about that Octillery to pass the time?"

Hazel sat down with a loud _thump_. "Yes, please!" His tail shifted across the sand, sending a small puff of grain flying up into the air behind him.

"Now, this Octillery was a slippy creature. He'd been trailing me for some time during my travels, and I tell ya, it was as annoying as having a grumpy Spearow perchin' on your head, spouting negative remarks over your every move. I knew he was there, but he never got any closer. Why he was out on land is anyone's guess. Maybe he was a part of some pirate's gang or somethin'. Anyway, he shadowed me across the plains and further along the field.

During that time, I acted as if I didn't even know he was there…"

Time flew by swiftly during Aren's storytelling. Soon, the waves of the shore were rushing closer and closer in, and Aren had to stop halfway through his tale. At Hazel's unexpected insistance for more, the Buneary had simply shook his head and told him that he would continue once they'd settled down to a nice cup of berry juice outside of Crescent Ville's café.

"The journey there won't be too big a deal now. It's just a matter of climbing a couple of slopes." Aren chuckled.

He stood close to Hazel, his arms crossed, watching as Hobart stared out at the waves.

"We off, then?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the grassy border.

With one last look at the glittering sea, Hobart turned and headed toward the meadow; his two companions in tow.


	6. Penumbra

**Chapter VI  
**

* * *

**Penumbra  
**

* * *

"It shouldn't be too far from here now." Aren looked down at his compass, checking that they were still going in the right direction. "These small slopes aren't what they seem, are they? They take it out of ya, that's for sure."

"Yeah," puffed Hazel, "they sure do." He was trailing behind the group, the tip of his tail dragging close to the ground. "Would you mind slowing down a little bit? I think my leg is acting up again. It's all achy."

"Oh, sorry mate." Aren slowed his pace, matching his walking speed to fit the Zorua's.

Worry settled within Hobart's heart. What if Hazel's injury became inflamed? He settled down to a walk, moving from Aren's side to Hazel's in order to have a check on his wound.

It looked okay but, it might be better if they stopped soon. "I think we should stop soon," he voiced aloud. "It'll give Hazel time to rest."

"It's not that bad," the fox said with a shake of his head. "I should be alright for a little bit longer."

"Well, when you feel the need to stop, just tell us and we will," Aren said, shooting him a glance.

He nodded. "I will."

The meadow was a mess of small bumps that lifted up and down the land like the rising of a sea serpent from the deep. Too often to count now, they had veered around the slopes, keeping their eyes peeled for potential adversaries.

The feral Pokémon here seemed to be keeping mostly to themselves but, Aren had told them a little earlier that such a thing meant nothing out here. They could attack while their backs were turned - it had happened to him before.

Their march across the landscape was done in silence, that was, until Aren came to a quick stop. "Hold on, guys… There's something over there."

Hobart looked to where he pointed, then felt a shard of ice melt across his tongue. An Oshawott stood still before them, his eyes cloaked in shadow.

Fear, worry and hope all crowded around Hobart's heart. Was that… Andrew? He found himself stepping ahead of Aren before he'd even realized it. This Pokémon… it looked like him, but different. There was hatred and anger in his eyes. Something that Andrew would never have shown. There was something wrong. A deep, dark wrongness that flipped on like a light switch in Hobart's brain.

It was as Hazel opened his mouth to speak – his expression one of horror - that the thing advanced towards them. He stepped back.

It was close enough now to see. Hobart examined the Oshawott carefully. It was Andrew!

A gasp made its way up and out of Hobart's throat. Why…? How…? This couldn't be right! He would never remove his Charm! But, there it was, an empty void of darkness that spread across Andrew's chest. The scalchop was no longer there.

"No…" A whisper echoed in his ears. "No." It wasn't until a few seconds later that he recognized that horrified voice to be his own.

Behind him, Aren and Hazel watched on, fearful of the sudden appearance of this monstrosity. The fox hunkered down, his eyes wide, while Aren unconsciously fell into a fighting stance.

Andrew sneered at them, he _sneered! _And then raised his paws, releasing control of the shadows that fell from his eyes. The smog rapidly snaked across the grass towards them.

"Get down!" Aren yelled, grabbing both Hobart and Hazel roughly by their scruffs and shoving them to floor.

Hissing, the shadow darted past their heads, just clipping Aren's ears as it passed. He hissed in turn, clapping a paw over the tips of his stinging ears, then pulled them back against his head.

Hazel was shaking, his eyes fixated upon the shadowed creature. _It's just like that time… It's exactly the same!_

Hobart's gaze stared unseeingly at the floor.

As the shadows rebounded back, aiming again at the trio, Aren clicked his tongue, the panic settling in his chest. He glanced at the others. "Come on, fellas! You've got to fight it! Fight your fear!" He stretched out a paw to rest it upon Hazel and shook him gently, then looked to Hobart. His expression softened. It didn't take a genius to figure out that their attacker was this fellow's brother. "I'll help you through this. I promise we won't hurt him."

"We… we won't need to," came the faltering response. Hobart lifted his head, his eyes suddenly ablaze with determination. "I'll go talk to him."

"What…? Are you mad!"

Hobart had already pushed Aren away and rose to his feet. "I need to talk to him. He'll be fine."

Aren shook his head. "No, he won't! Hobart, mate, you need to stay down. That shadow-"

The shadow in question charged at the group and Aren had to shove Hazel out of the way – just in time. It skimmed over his skin and fur, burning in and cutting away a few strands. Hazel barely even noticed. His ears lay flat against his head, his brown eyes staring into the distance. Aren balled his fore-paws into fists. This was bad.

Hobart had dodged out of the way. Ignoring the shadow now, he began to move away from the others, heading over to his enraged brother.

One part of his mind was screaming at him to turn back and help his companions, the other half was telling him this was the right thing to do. Still, his instincts were attempting to drag him down the path of flight; to run from this abomination and find a place to hide. But, it wasn't an abomination; this was Andrew.

Purposefully, he stopped before him; his ears tilting forward, his eyes set upon the smaller Oshawott. Shadows still streamed from his eyes, or what remained of them. Bone white and hollow, they stared straight past Hobart.

"Brother, it's me… Hobart." He kept his gaze focused upon him determinedly. Ensuring – through a method of blocking it out – that he wouldn't turn back to look at the smog.

Andrew's eyes snapped to bear down on Hobart's own. A snarl erupted from his lips and he hunkered down.

"Andrew, please. You've got to remember me. You have to." Desperation quickly entered Hobart's tone. It was almost a plea, a plea for the brother he knew. "This isn't you. You would never try to cause harm to someone, not even if they were the worst Pokémon in the world."

"Hobart! Stop it! Look at him. Right now, he's not in the right frame of mind. He's just going to attack you!" Aren yelled, diving as the dark fog swooped in an attempt to envelop him.

Hobart shook his head, his shoulders shaking. "No, he can hear me. He's there, he has to be."

"Look, right now you need to get away from him. Together we can get to Crescent Ville - escape for now. Once we've found something that can stop this, that can bring him back to normal, then we can return."

"He might be gone by then. No, I'm staying put."

Instantaneously, Andrew charged, hitting Hobart squarely in the chest. Bowled backwards with a gasp, his head hit the dirt. His corrupted brother lunged for him. On automatic, Hobart rolled out of harm's way. Just in time. Andrew slammed against the earth painfully, though he didn't seem to feel it. Instead, he swiftly turned, rushing back at Hobart again on all fours.

He prepared himself, bringing one leg back and raising his arms. As soon as Andrew came within range, Hobart lunged forward and smashed his fore-paws against his sibling's own. The smaller Oshawott made to pull away, but Hobart just tightened his grip.

"Brother, listen to me; you have to fight this. This isn't you, and you know it. Don't let this thing win, Andrew!"

For a moment, something akin to fear and sorrow flashed across Andrew's gaze. And then it was gone. He hissed at his brother, shoving him back roughly and leaping a few pawsteps away. Cold, empty eyes watched as Hobart visibly drooped.

A blur of brown tackled Andrew down and pinned him to the floor. "Hobart, we need to leave. _Now_." The Buneary turned his head to look at Hobart, droplets of blood slipping out from the cuts on his ears to fall to the floor below. "Hazel's in a bad way… It took me all of my effort to get him somewhere safe." Beneath him, Andrew bared his teeth and spat, scrabbling at Aren's fore-limbs in an attempt to move him.

Silently, his heart aching from grief, Hobart nodded. "I'll… go with you."

Aren breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, now we'll have to act fast; I don't know how long it'll take for the – the Shade to figure out that he can use his elemental skills."

"He won't be like this for long," Hobart said quietly. He turned to look at Andrew. "I promise that I'll find a Charm that will turn you back to normal."

"We can take him with us, but it'll be difficult," Aren told him, straining to keep the raging Oshawott in place. "We could-"

A cacophony of noise, like the sound of a multitude of Zubat's wings flapping rapidly, disturbed the air. Where Andrew lay there was now a twisting mass of dusky fog. It wasted away before their eyes, dropping Aren heavily within the spot soon after.

Frowning, he shook his head, puzzled. "What just happened?"

A heavy weight landed within Hobart's stomach; his ears pulled back against his head. "He's… gone," he whispered.

It didn't make sense. None of it did! Why did these things have to happen! It hurt, everything hurt.

Numbness ran along his spine, settled in his being. It felt like he'd never see his brother smile again. Never see him laugh. "Let's – let's just go."

Aren quietly get to his feet. "Alright." He dipped his head once, then moved away with Hobart following soon after.

"Hazel's just over here. I think it's best we get to the village as soon as possible. Night time around here is unpredictable, to say the least."

"Me and Hazel managed to survive the night." His words sounded dead and hollow.

"Then you were lucky. Trust me, things like that don't happen twice."

Aren stopped beside a bush and crouched. He pushed aside a mass of twigs and leaves, peering into the gloom. "Come on, Hazel. It's safe now."

After a few moments of silence, the young fox pulled himself out from the shelter. He shook out his fur, but remained mute, his gaze directed to the floor.

Aren heaved a sigh and looked to the heavens, but kept whatever comment he wanted to say to himself. "Let's head off to Crescent Ville, then. You two are in need of a good of rest. Hey! Tell you what, let's pay a visit to Ursaring Café once we get there. I promised to finish off that story, didn't I?" He nudged Hazel gently and smiled, flashing it at Hobart briefly before glancing back over at the Zorua.

He just sighed.

"… I'll take the lead," Aren said, turning away.

The pair tagged along behind him, the quiet acting as a permanent bubble between them the whole while throughout their trip.

The sun was reaching out to touch the middle of the sky, by the time they made it to Crescent Ville.

Everything was a mess of fuzzy colours and sound to Hobart as they padded along. His mind was going over all of the details of the encounter; his brother's vacant gaze, the shadows, his swift disappearance… He closed his eyes. Then snapped them back open as Aren's voice cut through his thoughts:

"We're here! What do you think? Nice looking place, huh?"

They stood before a brightly lit shop, its blue and yellow wooden sign brandishing the words: **URSARING'S CAFÉ** in bold letters. Situated outside of it were a number of rounded tables and chairs, all sparkling white and decorated with small patterned square cloths of silver and gold.

Aren steered the pair lightly over to a particular table, where they took their seats in silence.

A nearby Teddiursa came waltzing over to them with a smile. "Hello sirs, and welcome to Ursaring's Café! Can I take your order?"

"Three pecha berry smoothies, please," Aren said.

The Teddiursa nodded and walked inside the café. As the call went up for their order, Aren leaned forward and placed his fore-paws upon the table. "For now, let's just enjoy our drinks and a chat… I think it's best that we don't talk about what we've witnessed until we've had plenty of time to think it over."

Hobart didn't agree, but at this point, with his mind so muddled, he ended up nodding alongside Hazel anyway.


End file.
